


Stray

by teenytinytonyistragic



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Family, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Parent Bucky Barnes, Parent Tony Stark, Precious Peter Parker, Villains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 11:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25969018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenytinytonyistragic/pseuds/teenytinytonyistragic
Summary: Natasha was used to violence and death in her long gruelling lifetime, she was used to losing people amid firefights and interrogations by the opposition. Natasha knew death and she knew fear, despite what everyone might think of the unfathomable Black Widow, Natasha knew fear.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Stray

It was a stray. No one knew who shot it in the blur and frenzy of battle, everyone busy in their worlds. As the battle with the villain of the week raged on and on, no one noticed a small, seemingly insignificant pop from the barrel of a silenced gun off in the distance, which was the least of the team's worries; as they attempted to keep civilians safe and casualties to a minimum. No one noticed this small seemingly insignificant moment in time, no one apart from one Natasha Romanov.

Natasha was used to violence and death in her long gruelling lifetime, she was used to losing people amid firefights and interrogations by the opposition. Natasha knew death and she knew fear, despite what everyone might think of the unfathomable Black Widow, Natasha knew fear. She knew real fear, all-consuming and heart-stopping fear which enveloped the body and made everything freeze and accelerate at the same time. Even though Natasha was familiar with fear, she knew how to control the reactions to it, with the sweaty palms and rushing heartbeat. Natasha knew how to school her emotions and deal with the situation before acting on worldly emotional reactions. 

Years and years of learning to control her reactions was the only reason why Natasha knew not to panic and assess the situation. She had heard the shot fired in the distance (people often underestimated her enhanced abilities; surely some to rival those of Steve and Bucky) and she knew that everyone else was too consumed in the fray to notice the bullet, its angle, and trajectory. This was the only reason she knew where the bullet was headed. And she ran.

~~~

Tony Stark stood on the top floor of the Stark Tower, above the world it seemed, watching the battle raging on in the distance. He was far enough away from the fray to be safe, but he could still see some commotion of cars and buildings burning and dust of collapsed buildings as he watched the streets of New York. Tony had wanted to join the Avengers in this week's tussle against the latest wannabe villain, but alas, there was work to be done which was more pressing than saving the world, if that were even possible. This rule had been made years ago because they knew that someone had to do it, and had decided instead to take turns. And truth be told, this particular responsibility was far more important than the everyday bad guy causing a ruckus in the streets of their beloved city. 

Tony sighed as he turned away from the floor to ceiling windows lining the walls. They were safe up here, tony reminded himself, safe way from the danger and the gunfire. Looking upon the floor, Tony noticed the mess the Avengers had left in their rush to get out and join the local law enforcement in the fight when they had gotten the news of the attack. There were clothes strewn on the floor, as the team had been in a rush to change into their custom-made gear (made by Tony of course). The morning's breakfast was sitting abandoned on the dining table, with Bruce's special Sunday morning pancakes and eggs made by Steve growing colder by the second. 

Tony sighed again and resolved to order food for after the battle so that the team could at least have something to quench their hunger when they got back. He asked JARVIS to order them some lunch from Giano's, a team favourite and personal favourite of Tony's. Just as Tony was about to turn around and check on him, he heard a tiny squeak of a voice call out for him. 

"Dada?" 

Tony whirled around and smiled softly at the two-year-old boy who had seemingly just rolled out of bed and walked out into the kitchen. He was dressed in the tiniest footie pyjama with little blue stars all over it and was clutching his stuffed iron bear to his chest (both his and Tony's favourite).

"Hi, bambino" Tony smiled "did you have a good sleep?" 

Peter shrugged in the sassiest way a toddler could, and shuffled closer, lifting this arms up above his head (bear and all) and whining ‘uppppp’ while opening and closing his fingers on his free hand. Tony obliged, of course, he could never deny his tiny charge anything, even when he had first adopted him alongside his husband. 

The six-month-old stared at the two men with those big, beady, spider-eyes. Tony thought he looked intelligent beyond his years, and he also knew that this baby right here, sitting in the crib, without a care in the world, was the utter love of his life. Tony smiled like a sap at the baby, hands trembling as he tentatively reached forward, arms extending out towards the tiny human as though he was being controlled. He paused for a second, sending an unsure glance at his husband, who was standing right next to him, looking as nervous as Tony was feeling in the moment. His husband sent him an encouraging smile and nudged Tony softly towards the little baby, who was now looking impatient at not having been picked up yet. Tony obliges the little tyke, slowly advancing and placing his trembling hands under the baby's armpits and lifting Peter gently out of the crib. 

“Hey, you.” Tony’s voice came out no louder than a trembling whisper, staring in awe at the tiniest person he had ever seen, with big, beady brown eyes staring directly into Tony’s eyes. At that moment, Tony was hooked, and in the most cliche of ways, knew he would do anything and everything he could to protect this little human. 

“Would my bambino like something to eat this morning?” Tony asked Peter, who was now snuggled into his dada’s arms, head shoved into Tony’s neck with a sigh. Peter didn’t say anything for a moment, either thinking about the question or too groggy to understand what was being asked. Tony bounced Peter a little, starting his short journey to the kitchen, where Peter’s favourite cereal lay in wait in the pantry. Tony set the boy up with a bowl of Froot Loops in his highchair, with his iron bear safely seated on the table directly in his line of sight.

“Dadaaaa, Papa”?  
His tiny baby asked, stuffing his mouth full of milk and cereal, some spilling out of the corners. Tony sighs at the sight and approaches the baby with his sleeve pinched in his hand, wiping the tyke’s mouth and smiling at the cheeky grin he got in reply. 

“Papa is out saving the world, my love, what else would he be doing”?

“Papa here, Dada” The baby whined, not distressed enough to stop eating, however. 

“I know babyface, he’ll be back soon” Tony smiled sadly

“No baby Dada” Peter whined again, pouting his best pout

“Of course not my love” Tony could not stop smiling, 

Peter nodded his head with finality and turned his head back towards his rapidly dwindling supply of Froot Loops.

Tony returned his attention back to the windows, his heart pounding in a familiar way to every single time his husband was out fighting without Tony guarding his six. So wrapped up in his own thoughts and worries, he never saw the bullet coming.


End file.
